Wander
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: Severus Snape, in ten drabbles. Oneshot. "Not all who wander are lost." For my Life Challenge.


A/N: This is for my Life Challenge at the HPFC forum. I chose Snape—because he rocks, of course. In the first scene, by the way…it's a bit after his birth. Not like, the second after. Because Eileen would NOT have the energy to fight if that was the case. Just…it's the first time Tobias sees him, I guess. Yes. Okay. Onward.

Disclaimer: I do not own Snape's life…luckily…poor Snape…

* * *

_"Not all who wander are lost."-J.R.R. Tolkein_

* * *

_birth_

His mother looks at him.

She stares at his already bulbous nose, his beady eyes, and the tiny bit of black coming from the top of his head.

She wrinkles her nose and thrusts him in the dingy cradle on hand.

"Looks just like you again!" shouts his drunken father.

"And that's a _bad_ thing?" Eileen snarls.

"Yeah, matter of fact, it's a bloody 'orrible thing!"

"Why don't you go get drunk somewhere else? Somewhere where _I'm_ not trying to sleep?"

"Aw, man, _now_ I'm scared. Eileen the Magician's gonna come afta me—oh no!" Tobias laughs.

"Oh, aren't you so _charming_!" shrieks Eileen sarcastically.

Neither notices the screaming baby in the cradle.

* * *

_world_

From birth, the world is a bad place—scary, mean, hurtful.

His father staggers into the falling-down house screaming obscenities at Eileen. He kicks Severus on the way to the kitchen for more of that horrible beer.

This time, at least, he can run. He's not _that_ hurt—this time.

He rubs the back of his neck, which is healing nicely, he thinks, though it'll be a definite scar. He's in the woods by now, away from all humans.

_This_ is where the world opens. _This_ is the place where spring comes and animals feed, and there is silence.

Everywhere else is dark, angry, and horrible.

But here, in his secret little clearing, he can live in a beautiful, warm, inviting world.

* * *

_family_

Family was never anything to him.

Family was everything to Lily.

Petunia was her best friend; her parents where gods sent from heaven.

"My parents are the least angel-like people you'll ever meet," he told her. She shook her head.

"Still, they _have_ to have some goodness in them, Sev! Everyone does. Even if they aren't angels."

That's what he loved about Lily—she always saw the good in people. Even his family.

He never saw the good in Petunia. "Lily," he'd said, "Why do you like Petunia? She's annoying—and acts like she's so cool and old."

She hadn't spoken to him for two days—much too long, for him.

"I'm sorry, Lily. It's just…I don't have lovely family. And I see the worst in everyone. Not like you."

She laughed, of course—she was Lily—and hugged him. "Well, you have sense to be sorry!" she giggled.

Did he have sense for much else?

* * *

_friend_

She was his first friend, but that didn't mean he couldn't have others, right?

He befriended Mulciber easily. He _liked_ Mulciber. Mulciber was cool, he was Dark, and he was everything Severus knew he was meant to be.

And then Lily didn't like him.

"Can't I make friends too? Why is it always about you?" he'd yelled one day, loud enough for several people to hear. _This_ was how he was supposed to act.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Sev, you _know_ it's not all about me. Why would you say that?"

This time, she wouldn't speak to him for five days.

He'd gone to her and apologized. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I didn't mean it. I know it's not all about you—you're too good for that. I'm really sorry that you don't like my friends, Lily, because I—I don't want to stop being _your_ friend." (This was _not_ how he was supposed to act.)

Sniffling (for she had began to cry again when he started his apology), she'd half-joked, "At least you have sense to be sorry."

He cracked a smile, and they were friends again.

* * *

_school_

Hogwarts wasn't what he wanted it to be.

Hogwarts was…old. Boring. It was _school_, plain and simple.

And he didn't like it.

There was James Potter and company—the only thing he and them had in common was that they were in the same year. Not the same planet or the same _universe_. Luckily.

He didn't appreciate being publicly made fun of or insulted. He didn't enjoy glaring at them as they passed. He _certainly_ didn't enjoy hating them, but he did.

There were also the girls.

Girls were…from as far away a planet as Potter was. They giggled and smirked and gossiped. They talked about you.

He once overheard a girl say, "Would you rather kiss _Snape, _but really short, or snog the Giant Squid?"

"The Giant Squid! I'd catch dragon pox if I _touched_ Snape!" And the girls walked away giggling.

Lily had told him otherwise. "Sev, don't listen to them! They're stupid. Airheads who need a _life_."

He'd laughed, but he had never felt so rotten.

Hogwarts was supposed to be his escape.

Sure, he felt more at home here than at his house, but if people acted like this…

* * *

_romance_

He was in love with Lily from the moment he met her.

Romance was never his forte—in fact, girls hated him and he hated them.

Lily never seemed to notice. She was caught up in school and friends. She didn't have time for disgusting old _Snape_.

When he'd called her Mudblood, he'd just wanted to feel powerful; he was so impotent most of the time. He'd wanted to get over his little crush.

He'd expected her to forgive him, like she had the other times.

But she didn't say, "At least you have the sense to be sorry." She didn't smile at him again, and she never laughed with him.

This time, it took her a lifetime to forgive him, and so he never forgave himself for ruining his romance and his life.

* * *

_hatred_

James Potter was an arrogant toe-rag, as Lily liked to say. He swore and flirted and hexed and played bloody Quidditch, so girls loved him.

He and Severus hated each other from the beginning, and that was just a fact of nature. Lily hated him, too—the first person she'd hate—and so it put them in allegiance.

And then he'd ruined everything, and the worst thing in the world happened: Lily didn't hate Potter anymore. She'd laugh with him in the halls, she'd study with him in the library, she'd walk with him to class—Potter had taken Severus's place.

He could handle being hated by the woman (she was no longer a girl) he loved, but he could never, ever handle being replaced by the 'arrogant toe-rag'.

And so he turned to the Dark Lord. He Owled Lucius and Mulciber and the gang, and said he was ready.

But he always sort of hated the Dark Lord, too—because he made things final. He fully ended Severus's and Lily's friendship. There was no going back now.

And so he was forced to watch James and Lily grow closer. He was forced to sit on the sidelines when he could have been _living_ the fantasy.

It's that that drove him over the edge—he could have been Potter. But he wasn't.

* * *

_grief_

And then they'd dated, gotten engaged, gotten _married_.

He'd been there, a minor ghost who floated along the side of the road. It was everything he could do to motivate himself to keep living by then. The grief overtook him—she really loved Potter.

And then they'd had the boy—they'd actually conceived a child together. The thought made him sick. But Harry James Potter was born, and that fact couldn't be ignored.

But then the Dark Lord was hunting them.

And Pettigrew, the sniveling little rat, gave them away.

Gave _her_ away.

Lily was gone—dead.

Potter was, too.

But the boy had survived.

He'd never felt so helpless, so alone.

His grief drowned him for months, and then he suddenly woke up.

Lily would not want this—she'd want him to keep living, to keep trying, to keep fighting.

It was odd—when she was alive, they were enemies.

Now, she was gone, but he was on her side. It was too late.

The irony didn't amuse him.

* * *

_death_

His death was perhaps the best part of his life.

He could look into those emerald eyes, and he knew he'd see Lily again.

He allowed the boy to take his memories—it was time he knew the truth. He tried to remind Lily that he loved her with his last breath, but he could not. All he could do was accept the darkness.

And then it was light again, a blinding light, and he was in his little grove from his childhood.

There was Lily—he'd known. He'd known it would come to this.

And he went to her and hugged her, and all was truly well.

* * *

_life_

In all, he knows his life was nothing.

A tiny grain in the hourglass of time.

One unimportant stitch it the tapestry of life.

And one fragment of colour in the rainbow of Light.

His life had consisted of meeting and loving Lily Evans, and though it was a trivial accomplishment, it was something.

He'd helped win the war, and though he didn't live to see the outcome, he'd helped.

And he'd loved Lily.

He'd helped and loved, and that was enough.


End file.
